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Richard Matthews

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Richard Matthews last won the day on March 15 2015

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About Richard Matthews

  • Birthday 04/20/1989

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    StarBase 118 Operations
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  1. I dunno if I could make the choice off just which crew alone. Honestly if it was favorite crew I'd pick TOS just because favorite crew (though if I had half a chance with McCoy? It be the new movies version) But if we are taking into account, tech and stuff? I'd very happily go with with any other crew that had a holodeck and replicators . . . except Voyager because I don't think I could handle being lost in space. Actually I know I wouldn't be able to handle it.
  2. I dunno why, but this didn't only just seem a clever thing to say, but it struck me as funny too.
  3. Taybrim: =/\= The bomb onboard is enough to destroy the Starbase unless we get it outside the primary shielding. Even with the Starbase’s shields, Major tr’Khellian notes we need to get it at least two AUs away from the base to ensure the safety of those onboard. =/\= I know I'm giving away my dark secret of reading too much fanfiction here. But when I read the at least two AUs away from the base? I started picturing our group in various Alternate Universes. XD So this quote get's an honorable mention because it made me picture us all in a high school sitting - the Japaneses Anime kind. God help me.
  4. The fanciful part of Sal’s imagination wondered if one stared into those wide, dead eyes, would one be able to see the person who committed this crime reflected in the dying stare? Lt. Commander Sal Taybrim *Waits a beat* WE GOING STRAIGHT TO THE WILD WILD WEST!
  5. When I mentioned this to my wife, saying it was Richard's quote, her first question was, "Reed Richards?" Still, this was awesome! (And potentially confirms Latveria in the SB118 Universe!) Your wife is awesome for getting the Doom joke and the awesome racks up like 20 notches at the Reed Richards part cause. Haha! Awesome.
  6. Epic moments in the new Star Trek movies eh? Right off the bat I vote for Sulu in the captain's chair! Cause that was an epic moment of badassary right there. After that there's quite a few action packed scenes that I find it hard to pick from. Surprisingly tho my next pick isn't really one of the fast paced ones. It's when Kirk meets old Spock and all us fanboys get to see 'real Spock' or 'Spock Prime' or whatever you call him. Cause come on! Old Spock is awesome!
  7. Pooka . . . I wonder who's going to get that? And is it bad that someone makes allusion to alien rabbits and that's what I think? I'm a grownup I swear.
  8. It was dark, it was cold, and he could not move. No, that wasn't exactly right. He could feel a tight and constricting presence, some sort of binding. However, there was a slight give to it, he could indeed move about, just not very far. His panic subsided as this fact sunk in. It had all but abated when his memories of what had happened to him began to come back. Slowly, piece by garbled piece, the events leading up to his being stuck in the ice became clear. His name was Richard, he was a science officer, part of Starfleet, and he was- Wait, was that really ice covering him on all sides? No, it was glass and cold steel; he was in something metallic and very small. A glass window above him, which had fogged up during his panic attack, didn't provide much of a view. Why was he in this thing? This cold and cramped space that he couldn't imagine he would ever voluntarily subject himself to. Right, it wasn't voluntary. Richard tried wiping away the condensation obscuring his view of the outside. It didn't help. Wherever they had put him, please god not underground, it was too dark to see. Diadem, the people of Diadem, whom the Vigilant had been meeting with on a first contract mission, had been nothing but kind and courteous. That should have tipped them off that all wasn't right in the world they had stumbled upon. The senior officers had been wined and dined; some of them even partaking in other delights. Richard had been doing just that -coaura- a game involving manipulating light patterns and memory testing. He'd been playing and winning against a dignitary when he'd. Richard winced at the memory; the sharp pain from the blow to the head was a dull ache now, only bothering him when he moved his head to the left. It explained why he was having a time recalling things. He probably had a concussion, because after the explosion of pain, things got fuzzy. He'd put up a fight, that he was sure of, but they had hit him with something other than just their fists, a drug that really did a number on his senses. Because Richard could not shake the memory of staggering to the floor, dropping on hands and knees, slowly lowering himself to the ground, and then looking up into the face of his assailant. It had been his face (he'd recognize it anywhere) that had been grinning down at him. He rapped his knuckles against the glass. It was cold to the touch, while not bad enough to give him a chill; it was cold enough to make him a little uncomfortable. Wherever he was, there was no source of heat out there. "I'm trapped," Richard said. "And I'm talking to myself." Deciding that oxygen was too precious to spare, Richard decided against stating anymore of the obvious. It would be silly to lay there talking to himself, narrating what was happening to him as if someone could hear his tale of woe. After all, it wasn't like he had . . . his come badge! Richard shifted around franticly, the tight constricting clothing he wore gave just enough for him to lift up his arm. But where a badge should have been pinned, Richard found nothing. In frustration, he punched the glass above him. The smacking sound of his fist against the glass reverberated around him. All he had to show for his troubles were bruised knuckles. The little effort it took to make the swing left him spent. He lay there a moment trying to calm his breathing as darkness encroached on his vision. "Awake?" The crackling startled him. The voice that followed the static, that scarred him. It was his voice. But not. "Don't be like that Richard," not his voice said. "I just wanted to let you know how your friends where doing. I figured I owed you that much." "What are you?" He heard himself chuckling over the speaker. God but he had an annoying laugh. No wonder it got on Grant's nerves. "Come on Richard, you're smarter than that. For my sake, I hope that you are. We do share the same DNA after all." "A clone then," Richard frowned. When could the Diadems have gotten a DNA sample from him? For that matter, just how had they grown a fully developed clone of him, and in under eight hours? "That's not possible." "Improbable, but not impossible, I am Lt. Jg. Richard Matthews, a science officer aboard the USS Vigilant." The thing was mocking him. The thing was mocking him and it was using his own voice to do so. Richard would have none of that. "Stop that! I don't care what you say you are. You're not me! You hear me?" His voice was still chuckling at him. "Hear you loud and clear Richard. Maybe you should quiet down a little; there isn't much air where they've stuck you." "And where did they stick me?" "It's basically a freezer, where they keep the bodies until they dispose of them." There was that cold feeling again. This time though, it wasn't from pressing against the glass window in front of him. "I'm in a morgue." "Yes." "And this is the part where you tell me what your evil plan is, right? Brag about how you're going to; to whatever it is you think you're going to do." "So that you could possibly get a warning out to your friends, Richard, I'm not stupid. I am you remember? I know you're already working out how to activate the com system on your end. While wondering why a casket even has one to begin with." "The thought had crossed my mind." Richard admitted while his hands traced along the sides of his 'casket.' Finding nothing, no panel or switch, he slowly rolled over as much as he could in the small space he was in, continuing his search for a set of controls or something to work with. "It won't work you know. Who is going to believe the message of a raving lunatic, claiming that a high-ranking Starfleet officer is a clone? No one in their right mind would." There was a pause and Richard could have sworn he heard the scratching of pen on paper. "I need to speak with Dueld." "Best to keep to yourself if you want to fool people," Richard snapped, even though the other couldn't see him, he made a rude gesture as he growled out his warning/threat. "My friends can tell the difference between me and a fake. You might sound like me and look like me. However, you are a quickly thrown together copy. You won't full anyone." "I've been doing well enough so far. Seems all I have to do is make a not so funny joke here or there. No one is the wiser. Really Richard it's not like they expect much from you." "You must though, why else would you be calling me?" He had found what he was looking for. A small panel that popped open to reveal wires and buttons, there was a little speaker off to the side, and a small screen right below it. "I wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You've been out for a while you know. Air must be awful thin in there by now." "It's a little stuffy, but other than that, fine." Richard had to stop three times as he fiddled with the wiring of his mini prison. It wouldn't do to cut off the transmission by accident, but as anyone who knew him well enough would say if asked, Richard just was not a hands on kind of guy when it came to electronics. The software he could handle, having fancied himself a bit of a hacker back in the day. The hardware, not so much, and his time at the academy hadn't helped with that. He could recall one class that might have assisted him about now but- 'Cadet, why are you not listening?' Richard, who had been chatting up the cute security officer on his team, smiled at the ranking officer running their class. 'Well this isn't really my department. Yusueh and Patolos are the operations officers.' He chuckled, at the annoyed look the instructor was shooting him. Was it his fault that he'd never actually need to know how to wire up a radio? 'Who are you cadet?' 'I'm the doctor.' 'Dr. Who?' 'Dr. Rich-' 'I don't care,' she cut him off, 'and neither well anyone out there, do you think this is a game? Because I have no time for cadets who can't take their classes seriously. This could save your life someday. But if you think you already know everything that you need to know. You can leave this exercise and go straight to the testing. My office after your last class cadet, dismissed. Looking back, Richard rather wished he'd practiced better study habits right now. Actually listening in class for one. "I just wanted to-" the audible click of another channel being open disrupted the not Richard's little speech. But he went on as if he hadn't noticed the little blip. "And say thank you for being so pathetic. It's been laughably easy to play the fool. No one notices a thing, not the giant buffoon who claims to be in charge of security around here. Not that lazy Captain of yours who has his legs up more often than an Orion slave girl does. Not even your chief medical officer and she did a physical." Richard winced, he would have some explaining to do once back aboard the Vigilant. Clone or not. You just didn't get away with saying things like that about superior officers. "It's because I'm a perfect clone. Yes, of course there's a way to tell what I am. If the CMO or any medical officer did the right tests, they'd see that my cellular structure is akin to that of a small child's. After all I'm only 20 hours old." This was good, without any real prompting, the monster wearing his face was spilling all its secrets. The trick was to keep it talking without asking too many questions. Questions derailed the flow of the other chap telling you something; they just weren't part of a normal chat. "The Vigilant just broke orbit around Diadem. In a few short minutes, you will be out of range and I won't get the chance to talk to you ever again. You have, if I'm guessing right, twenty minutes left." Maybe less than that, Richard was actively taking slower shallower breaths now. Lightheaded was never a good thing to be. Lightheaded inside a casket wasn't even an option. "The people of Diadem haven't been ignorant of your federation for some time. The alliance between their world and the others in this solar system, you remember hearing about that right?" The alliance between Diadem and the three other inhabitable planets that shared its solar system had been a real selling point for the Federation. Four planets for the price of one in a region of space where they didn't have many allies to begin with? The admiralty had been all but drooling when they had sent their orders to the Vigilant to make first contact. When it realised that Richard wasn't going to answer, the voice that was not his own continued. "It's not so much an alliance as an empire ruled over by the people of Diadem." Richard laughed. "Four planets does not an empire make, tell them to get back to us when they're on par with the Klingons or Romulans. Now those are empires." "It's not much of an empire now. But once they gain access to the United Alliance of Planets, and the fire power of the Federation, their empire will trump both the Klingons and what is left of the Romulans' Star empires." "You cloned me so you can clone others too. God, it's like a twisted version of the body snatchers." Frowning, Richard asked. "You do know this has been tried before right? Little alien parasites, humans used as puppets, hostile alien take over. Really you should be sued for plagiarism." "The process of creating me included a data dump, it could be called. While I don't know something as trivial as what was on the breakfast menu yesterday. The scientists in charge of my mental development were able to give me the big things." "You have my memories then?" That's how the Diadems planned on doing it. Not just by replacing officers, but by stealing their memories. The perfect infiltration units supplied with all the necessary information. "I'm already tagging officers aboard the ship to be taken during the next visit. The chief of science was a trial run. The important officers, like the Captain, First Officer, or Chief Medical Officer, are the ones we want. You can get closer to the admiralty through a Captain after all." Hearing enough, Richard directed his next question to the person listening in on his little conversation whit himself. At least he hoped that he was talking to someone else. He wasn't exactly sure if his call had been answered by friend or foe. He didn't even know if it had been answered. "Did you get all that?" One beat, then two, Richard was starting to sweat in his little icebox. "Nothing to say Richard? You've been awfully quite while I've chatted away here." Panicked, Richard began fooling with the wires again. "What do you mean quiet?" No answer, just quiet, Richard didn't know if he'd cut off his connection with his tampering or not. Apparently he'd done something to not be able to transmit. "You couldn't have passed out already Richard, surely we're made from tougher stuff then that? Come on say- what?" The startled exclamation caught Richard's attention. Breath healed to hear his other self over the speaker and to conserve as much air as possible. He strained to hear what was going on. The clone was talking to someone, he could just make it out, the clone said something and then he swore he heard the sounds of a scuffle. "Who was he talking to? Hanson, trace the source of the signal now." Was that the captain? Richard sucked in a quick breath. They were talking again. "Sir there is an open channel to the planet's surface, where it's being received and broadcasted, but I can't tell the transmitters location. I can only narrow it down to a fifty mile radius." "Bridge start scanning the area Ensign Hanson has given us. That thing was talking to someone and I want to know who." "Me," Richard gasped, the effort it took to speak was frightening, but he did it anyway. "Sir I'm in a morgue, probably the basement of that hospital you visited." "Sir, what about Matthews?" There was a pause, when the captain spoke he sounded as tired as Richard was feeling. "I can't see the Diadems keeping him around, not if they wanted to keep up pretences, they'd have disposed of the evidence." Richard shuddered. The captain went on. "I just can't believe I didn't notice something earlier. I told Richard that I had gotten my hands on the recipe for those cookies everyone liked at the party. He just looked at me like I had two heads before saying 'that's nice sir.'" "Sir, bridge reports they've got something." Hanson's clipped and dry tone, while usually a source of annoyance for Richard, made his spirits soar now. "Let's go see what it is Ensign." Quiet, save for the shallow gasping breaths he took, which were loud and deafening to his own ears. There were no voices coming over the speaker now. Richard didn't even know if the channel was still open. If the Vigilant had found him, would they even need it open to lock on to him, no they wouldn't. Any second now, because it would only take a moment for them to lock on to him and beam him aboard, he'd be breathing that wonderful recycled air and a hot nurse or doctor would be fussing over him. His Captain would simultaneously commend him for his efforts, berate him for getting into trouble, and threaten him never to do it again. Any second now, because his chest was getting tighter. His silly crewmates did have the flair for dramatics; a down to the last minute save was something they would do. Any second now. The world was going white; finally, they were beaming him up. The world would go completely blank for a moment, two three minutes tops, and he'd be home again. It would only be like a second for him though, a blink of the eye and he'd be home and safe. Richard smiled as he closed his eyes. He was going home. Lt. Jg. Richard Matthews MD Acting CSO USS Vigilant NCC-75515
  9. Oh boy, set back relax and smoke 'em if you got them ladies and gents. it's review time! So, starting with the things I liked: the acting and visuals. The costumes were pretty neat (Oh god the Klingons, the Klingons!) Didn't like them being in all gray all the time. I do appreciate how they had multiple uniforms for different purposes. That is how it works in the military, so point there. My OTP is alive and going strong and a random secondary ship that I blame a very talented fic writer for even had a throw away line in the movie. Completely unintentional but hey shippers will latch on to anything! . . . Moving right along. Things I didn't like so much: okay ignore how problematic it is to have a white Brit sub in for a character who should have been Desi, who else was annoyed and found it boring when he turned out to be Khan? It actually had no real impact on the film as far as I could tell. He could have just been Harrison the whole time, and I don't think it would have mattered one bit. That being said I am a Khan fan, one of the best bad guys in TOS, in TOS anyway. Anyone else find the writing for him to be a little off? Khan is a grand chess-master who in the original earned Kirk's respect in spite of his evil ways; I know that was really Admiral (Insert his name here if you know it, I've forgoten) who was the actual big bad. But darn it people! If you're going to use Khan then use him right! Actually while we are on this subject, to me it seemed like the writers didn't get Jim, Bones, or Spock at the point in time they find themselves in. And don't get me started on Uhura (Ok get me started) relegated to just a girlfriend for the most part with two moments of awesome. Only two! Sulu only got one badass moment in the film and he was setting down. Which no, come on give the man a sword people . . . ok that might be just the silly fanboy in me getting out of line. Moving on. Not moving on so much, I have to complain about Jim now. He was like a bad fanfiction character for like most of the movie. Of course that was the only way they could make him happy with Spock because he was a [...] himself for most of the movie. And insubordinate to pike. Which just no. . .no . . . NO! And no again. I think the only reason I And Bones, my favorite character of Star Trek as a whole. All they did was give the guy one liners, although I guess I should be glad that they let him a)be a doctor and that he was ultimately the one who saved Kirk. Really I think of the three Bones might have been done the best now that I think about it. Of course this again could be the fanboy in me. Doesn't help that Karl Urban portrayed the man. A lot of people say that karl does the best job out of the seven of the main cast. And I don't think that the guy disappointed us, but lordy people will not shut up about Cumberbatch, when funny enough I think it was Pine who carried this film. There were like five scenes that I don't think should have worked. But did because of his acting. And speaking of the writing, let's just talk about the plot shall we? Who, and answer honestly here, was happy about this plot? Because I sure wasn't! They had all this time to come up with something new, and instead we get a remake with Kirk dying instead of Spock. There was a review that I read somewhere that said the movie is excellent until the Khan reveal, where it falls apart. You know what? I agree with whoever said that. It was unnecessary and things didn't make sense. A lot of clever call backs to the original Star Trek kept me entertained at least but who else wanted something more? I mean what is the point of an alternate timeline where it's been gone over and over again about how anything can happen and they just retell the same stories? The Khan bellow . . . needed to stay out of the movie. Enough said moving on. Who else loved Carol and was surprised to find that they did? I was! I could care less if they you know went the Jim/Carol rout but hot [...] at least they made the girl interesting and likable. I mean one of the first things she says to Kirk is "So you [...]ed my friend, never called, never wrote, and now you don't even remember her." I choose to ignore that said friend is Christen Chaple. On behalf of the character and Majel, [...] you JJ and company, Chapel woud never! Now don't get me wrong. There are loads of things to love about this film. But I'm not in love with it like I was back in 2009. It's just not nearly as good as the first movie. That's my opinion anyway and few feels good to get that off the chest.
  10. Now I really can't wait for May 15th. Stupid trailers!
  11. “You’ve been sort of married once. What’s it like?” “You, married? Why is it I’m only hearing about this now? Spill!” Your friends had dragged you out with them to a local bar. It isn’t big or fancy; it isn’t a little dive either. But it never draws the attention of other cadets and it has yet to be graced by the presence of any teacher or Starfleet officer. So you all like it well enough, even on karaoke night, it’s your place to escape and unwind or just get [...] faced. The décor is ancient when compared to some of the newer bars and clubs in town and so much more human too. You're not against foreign cultures in the slightest, you welcome it in fact. But it’s nice to set back in a familiar place that screams home and human. Not alien and stranger. One of your friends motions for the bartender to bring some more drinks. You are not getting out of this you decide. Keisha has brought it up. Most likely because her long term on again off again fling with the Vulcan cadet, who is a class ahead of the three of you, is getting just a tad more serious. Jesse is like a dog with a bone, and the gleam in his eye is enough of a tip off for you. He is not letting this one go no matter what you try and bribe him or blackmail him with. But you try and deflect anyway. Even though you know it is as futile as trying to get a Ferengi to donate to charity. Plied with alcohol and good company you find yourself revisiting old haunts and poking at scabbed over wounds. You also realize that when you are buzzed you tend to try and wax poetically and fail at it. You start off with a name. It’s a simple name that even now means something to you. You hate yourself for the fact that it still conjures up memories of late night walks, dinner and dancing, sneaking into each other’s rooms even later. Just plain fun old times together alone or with friends. You are happy though because enough time has passed that you are no longer bitter. That you can now tell these people who are setting there hanging on to your every word about the good times. “We met in school and it wasn't love at first sight. It wasn't hate at first sight that turned into burning passion either. We were indifferent to each other; different social circles, classes and, goals. You see? We met in freshman year but didn't get to know each other until our senior year. We became friends hung out and partied together but didn't date.” “How romantic,” Jesse looks like he is getting bored but Keisha is listening with rapt attention, you still are not getting out of this. “No one ever accused Morgan of being a romantic.” You say and after tossing back your drink, after letting the alcohol burn its way down into the pit of your stomach, letting it warm you and give you a boost of that liquid courage you so desperately need. You continue. “We moved in together first as friends. Went to med school together and between all the studying and working together and just being in each other’s space all the time, will it wasn't too surprising when we woke up together one morning.” Jesse whistles, “Nice.” And Keisha slaps him up the side of the head. You smile at their antics and wait a moment for them to simmer down before you continue. It is surprising that you don't actually mind continuing. But everyone has to move on at some point right? Maybe you finally have. You tell them that it was good. For a while, a long while, it was really good, great even. You tell them about how two people can share their hopes and dreams together. You tell them how two people can work together to achieve almost anything, handle almost everything, together. You smile as you recount graduation day. You both worked so hard and it finally paid off. You laugh and your friends laugh at the after grad stories. Then you get serious. “It was a couple of weeks before the topic of residency came up. We knew there was a really good chance that we would not be matched to the same hospital. So we started discussing our options. The best idea seemed like trying a long distance relationship. Which never works out or so they say. We really started to think that was it. Good bye, good luck, so long, farewell, it’s been fun, be seeing you.” “But then you got the idea to get married and then you would have to get the same residency.” Keisha says. She’s got a wistful smile on her face and you just know that she is imagining some romance novel-esque thing here. You hate to burst her bubble but it would really be crueler not to set her straight, as far as you are concerned anyway. “No, marriage wasn't in the cards for us. My parents never did like Morgan. And Morgan’s parents, let’s just say they had denial down to an art form. Would only refer to me as the roommate and would always bring up the topic of dating one of their friend’s kids when they visited, even if I was standing right there!” You shake your head as if to dislodge those annoying memories. In your more bitter moments you like to blame yours and Morgan’s parents for your problems. “So what did you do?” “We talked it over and we decided that we wanted to stay together. So we made a plan, one of us would do our residency first and the other would wait until they were finished then do theirs. Morgan went first and I waited.” Jesse is giving you a funny look. You tend to forget that this jock, who loves nothing more than to fly, can be frighteningly perceptive from time to time, when he wants to be anyway. You shake your head, ‘no’ this is not a story you want to tell right now. You have no problem talking about yours and Morgan’s time together. Not anymore anyway, when you’re plied with enough alcohol. But you haven't really talked about the break up with anybody. Why start now? Keisha on the other hand is surprisingly stunned tonight. You blame the alcohol for your friend’s lack of common sense. Usually she is the smart one. She prods and needles away at you until you promise that later you will divulge the whole assorted affair. When you accidentally let slip that you’re and Morgan’s was a more open relationship, Jesse the horn dog, assures you that you will be keeping your promise. While your friends order you all more to drink. The night is still young, and there are no classes the next day till after lunch after all. You think that you don’t really know what surprises you more. The fact that you only had eight beers before you started spilling your guts. Because usually it at least takes twelve and it also ends with crying. Not too much blubbering really, ok a pathetic amount of tears and snot and it just is not a pretty sight. Or that you, like so many other ragging drunks before you, have made a startling discovery at the bottom of your glass of cheep watered down beer. Maybe it’s something you've really known all along. Maybe it’s not really some big realization of life altering proportions. Maybe it’s a simple truth that you've taken for granted. Maybe it’s time to stop taking things for granted. “I love you guys.” Maybe you've had too much to drink. But your friends laugh and from one moment to the next you find yourself grabbed in a big group hug. You're all laughing and waving around your glasses sloshing drink all over the place. You think that someone is going to come up to you three soon and tell you to cut it out. But no one does and maybe the bartender is just glad that you guys aren't starting a fight. “Love you too man, in a totally non gay way.” Jesse is grinning. “We are so drunk.” “We are not.” Keisha goes to sit back down and misses her seat. You grab her arm to keep her upright and when she thanks you. You tell her you did it to save the beer. “You asshole,” She dissolves into a fit of giggles and this time you help her set back down, the lightweight. And that’s it. You have moved on. Maybe not to some new bigger and better love, the kind they write about. But you're finally letting people in again, that is a big step in your book. You didn't just lose a lover after all. You lost your best friend and it’s kind of hard to get over that. If you're really honest with yourself, you really didn’t try. You took the easy way out and found your solace at the bottom of cheaper glasses of beer then the stuff you are drinking now. Apparently you were looking in the wrong spot. You might have also been looking for the wrong things too. But thinking about that stuff requires higher cognitive function that you just can’t muster right now. So instead you set there and you smile. You knock back a drink or two or five more. You laugh you cry because darn it you are drunk and it is hard to keep your emotions straight right now. You get dragged up onto the little stage up front and suddenly you really hate your friends. But you’re three sheets to the wind now so who cares how this happened. Though you suspect this is all Jesse’s doing after you swore up and down that you would never partake in karaoke night with him, ever! The display screen pops up in front of you and before your friends get a chance to do it. You are tapping out a selection. The screen starts off by giving you various eras to choose from, then decades, and when you've finally chosen the time frame you like best? You get to select the genera and then the song. In keeping with tonight’s theme you think you've made an excellent choice. The music starts and the words pop up in front of you. Keisha wraps an arm around you and you know that was a sniffle you just heard from her. Jesse is calling you out on being such a chick but then he’s right there with the two of you belting the song out of tone. “Into the night, the Milky Way.” You're singing to each other just as much as you are singing to the drunken crowd, trying desperately to get this one message across because you've never been good at this. At expressing your feelings and maybe you can try to blame Morgan for that. But really you can't because you've always been a little more reserved than others. The song comes to a close; there are drunken cheers all around, the only kind you'd ever get for performing like that. But hey you take what you can get. “We are so awesome, I bet we win!” Jesse says. “Free beer, woo!” Keisha laughs. And just to be different you say. “I meant it guys.” You’re grabbed up in another group hug and the drunk cheering gets even louder. And if you can’t remember this night when tomorrow morning comes? Well that will be ok because you are so freaking embarrassed right now it’s not even funny. “Thank you for being my friends.” You say not sure if they can hear you over the racket. But if the tightening of their grip on you is any indication, the message is received loud and clear.
  12. Hello everyone! The name's Matt and I'm from St. John's. I've done some role playing before, never for Star Trek, this is a first, but it's been a lot of fantasy stuff so I'm not totally out of my element here. I actually found out about this site from a video on youtube and decided to give it a try. Getting back into rping and all that you see? I've been a fan of Star Trek since I was little and use to watch the show with my dad. I feel the need to point out that these where re-runs and not during original broadcasting. Currently I work at a local restaurant but am planning on going back to school. . . as soon as I figure out what I want to do. lolz I'm not an underachiever I swear.
  13. And his friends had called him silly for insisting on bringing a pair of sunglasses with him. Richard glanced up, but not directly at, the simulated sun. There was no cloud cover today and as Richard sat outside the small café, sipping on a coke and munching his bagel, he could almost forget that he was on a star base. Yup any minute now Jess would be raising him over the com, probably forgot his data pad somewhere and needing to borrow his. Except he wouldn’t be, because this was Star Base 118 and he wasn’t here for some way out there field trip. This was it, the Cadet Cruise, and while Richard was actually really excited about it. He found himself wishing he were back at the academy. “Oh I know that look,” Jess slid into the seat across from him. While he pulled out his burger and fries, he went on. “You got that ‘the hell was I thinking’ look on, or possibly you ‘I just remembered I like to keep my feet on the ground’ look on. Which you know never made any sense to me because you don’t have a fair of heights or flying.” “Only when you’re the pilot,” Richard snapped, though he hoped the smile that was sneaking across his face softened his words. “Whatever old man,” Jess took a bite of his burger. “So did you actually take in any of the sites? Or just set around brooding? Not that that isn’t working for you.” Richard frowned and turned to look where his friend was pointing. Crowds of people, some moving with a purpose, others you could tell were tourists just taking in the sites. A small group of women giggling, and quickly looking away when they caught his eye, oh, he snickered. “Not this week,” “Seriously? But, but.” Jess rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder about you man. I mean you’re a good looking guy. Tall, dark, scruffy unshaven, but smexy not unkept.” “Jess, is this your roundabout way of telling me something that you’ve been afraid to tell me?” “Shut up man.” Richard laughed, “Come on hurry up, we don’t want to be late.”
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